by Tina Folsom
Winter swallowed. It was true what people said, that during a dangerous situation a person wasn’t really aware of how bad it was and what else could have happened. But afterwards, as the mind processed the events, all kinds of scenarios played out as the mind imagined the things that could have happened. She let the attack play out in her mind again, frame by frame—and stopped almost immediately.
Winter whipped her head to Logan. “You disappeared before the fight even started. I was in such a panic that I thought I was hallucinating, but now, looking back, I remember: you just disappeared.”
He turned his head slowly, a hesitant look on his face. She saw him taking a breath.
“What are you not telling me?” she asked.
“A lot, I admit. Some of which I can’t share with you. But this I have to, since you already saw it. I didn’t disappear. I was still there, but I made myself invisible so the demons would have a harder time fighting me.”
“Invisible?” she echoed, pressing her hand against her chest. “Like in the movie The Invisible Man?”
He nodded. “It’s a skill we have.”
“We?”
“My people and I.”
Instinctively she edged away from him, her heart thundering now. “Who are you? What are you?”
He lifted one hand from the steering wheel and made a calming motion. “I’m an immortal warrior. We call ourselves Stealth Guardians. We’re the defenders of the human race. Our only purpose in life is to protect humans from the influence of demons. We’ve been doing so for centuries.”
She swallowed, let out a breath. “Immortal…”
“Yes. I’m two-hundred years old.”
She shook her head in disbelief. But she knew it was true, felt it, just like she now knew that the demons of her nightmares—no, visions—were real. So why shouldn’t immortal warriors be real too? At least that would level the playing field.
“I’m sorry. I know this is a lot to take in. I wish I could have given you more time to digest all this, but the attack took me by surprise. We weren’t aware that the demons had already locked onto you. We only discovered your existence this morning.” He stopped abruptly, as if the conversation was heading in a direction he’d rather avoid. “Anyway, it’s a lot to take in.”
“You knew I was a psychic when you came to my shop. You didn’t really come for a reading,” she said. It wasn’t a question, just a statement she made to order her own thoughts. “How come I didn’t know that I’m a psychic? That I have visions?”
“Most psychics, while naturals, need some guidance, some help so that they can master their gift. It’s a powerful skill, one that can overwhelm a person. And the visions can indeed feel like nightmares. You saw demons, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “They frightened me. I felt that they were coming for me. Their green eyes… when they looked at me with those poison-green eyes, my blood froze in my veins. I could feel their evil intent. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”
“I understand. No wonder the visions felt like nightmares. But now you know better. You’ll be better prepared next time it happens.”
“Next time?”
“Your visions won’t stop, just because you know they’re real. Nightmares might stop once you’ve worked through the issues that cause them. Visions don’t work that way. They’re part of you. You’re special. That’s why the demons wanted you, so you can help them defeat us.”
She frowned. “What?”
“You also saw other things in your visions, not just the demons. You saw our weapons, our strongholds. You can find us. And that makes you valuable to the demons.”
“But I can’t. I don’t know anything about you and your people,” she protested.
“You do. Even though you might not realize it.” He put his blinker on and turned into a street that led into a park. “You drew things that could be used to identify us. In your shop hangs a drawing of a dagger. It’s one of ours. And another drawing depicts the Callanish Stones, the place where one of our compounds was located. You drew those things without knowing their meaning, but the demons, they’d be able to put two and two together.”
Winter put her hand over her mouth. “Oh no. But I didn’t mean to. The psychiatrist… he said it would be good to draw what I see so that I could get over it.”
To her surprise, Logan reached for her hand and squeezed it. His warmth was comforting.
“Don’t beat yourself up. You couldn’t know. And I got to you just in time.”
“About that—”
“Later,” he interrupted and stopped the car in a small deserted clearing with a bench and a hut that she identified as restrooms. “We need to get changed before we go any further.”
“Changed? Why?”
He pointed to the green stains on his shirt and then to her. She looked down at herself and saw the same spots on her clothing.
“I need to bring you to a safe house. But to do so I need to make us both invisible, and—”
“Invisible? You can make me invisible?”
“Yes, with either my touch or my mind. But one substance defies my skill.” He pointed to the green splotches. “I can’t make demon blood invisible. If I made us invisible now, people would still see the blood on our clothes. And if demons were in the vicinity, they would find us. I can’t risk that.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
He motioned to the restrooms. “I’ll make sure nobody is inside. Then you’ll go in and change, and I’ll change out here, making sure nobody approaches. You’ll be safe.”
She looked into his eyes and knew he spoke the truth. Logan would keep her safe.
8
Zoltan rode the female demon hard. He had her bent over his desk in his study, her cargo pants down to her ankles, her ass bare, while he gripped her hips with both hands and slammed into her from behind. His pants were shoved to mid-thigh, just enough to give his cock and balls sufficient room to do the deed. This wasn’t a romantic assignation, but a need he had to satisfy. There were always plenty of female demons willing to offer their services to him. After all, he was the Great One, and if they pleased him, he might even take one of them to his bed and favor her with more than just a quick fuck. Or he might not.
He pounded into the willing flesh, tuning out the sounds coming from the woman’s lips, moans he knew were faked, and concentrated only on himself, his needs, his desires, his goals. Nobody else counted. Everybody else was expendable. Replaceable. Just like the woman at the end of his thrusting cock. He looked down at her, gazed at her long blond hair. Hers was straight, but he remembered a woman with curls, no, not curls, but braids, though he assumed once untied the hair was curly.
A loud knock on the door stopped his mind from pursuing the road he was on.
“What?” he yelled toward the door.
“Urgent news.” It was Yannick, the demon responsible for all vortex circles in the Underworld, and thus the one who knew of all comings and goings.
Goddamn it!
Zoltan delivered two more thrusts, and with the second one, shot his semen into the blond woman. Then he withdrew and pulled his pants up. Not giving the woman any time to get dressed, he called out, “Come in, Yannick.”
The door opened immediately. Yannick stepped in, while Zoltan zipped up and closed the button of his pants. The female grunted in displeasure at the interruption and hastily pulled her pants over her ass, but not before Yannick had gotten an eyeful.
“Off you go,” Zoltan ordered and motioned to the door.
Scowling, she scampered away, and Zoltan made a mental note never to ask for her company again. Her attitude didn’t please him.
Once the woman was out of earshot, he asked, “What news?”
“News from the group you sent to find the psychic.”
“Ah, excellent!” His day was looking up.
Yannick cleared his throat. “Uh…”
Narrowing his eyes, Zoltan looked at him. He could see it in Yan
nick’s demeanor. The news wasn’t good. “Fuck!”
“One of them came back,” Yannick offered and motioned to the door.
“Who?”
“Colton, oh Great One.”
Zoltan glared into the dark corridor behind Yannick. “Colton! In here! Now!” Then he glanced at Yannick. “You stay.”
Yannick froze and nodded, while Colton hurried into the room.
“Shut the fucking door!”
Shaking, Colton turned and shut the door, then pivoted to bow. “Oh Great One.”
“Where are the others?”
“Dead. We were ambushed.”
Zoltan narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Ambushed?”
“By the Stealth Guardians. They were lying in wait for us when we got to the psychic’s house. We never had a chance.” Colton dropped his head.
“Elaborate.”
“Uh… the, uh… Stealth Guardians knew we were coming. They were ready to fight.”
“They’re always ready to fight. You probably rolled in like a tank announcing yourselves. No wonder.”
“No, oh Great One. We were careful. But they outnumbered us,” Colton insisted.
But there was something in his eyes. His eyes flickered with an overproduction of the chemical that colored his eyes green. Like tears the substance oozed through his irises. A demon couldn’t cry, however, other things could be conveyed through the eyes. Things like lies. Zoltan had studied his demons closely over the last few years and learned to recognize the signs. He was by no means infallible in detecting a lie, but he didn’t need to be. Better to stamp out one demon who turned out to be truthful than let one liar live.
“Outnumbered, you say? How many guardians did you encounter?” Zoltan asked calmly, almost casually, though inside his fury was already boiling, ready to burst from him.
“Many, a whole group.” Colton’s voice sounded less sure now, and there was a slight trembling in his hands, which he tried to disguise by clasping them together.
Zoltan stepped closer. “How many?”
“Maybe six or seven.”
Another lie. This time so much easier to detect.
“How many?”
“Four?”
Zoltan snatched Colton by his throat. “The truth now.”
Colton struggled to breathe. Zoltan eased his grip, giving him just enough air to answer.
“Two. There were two. But they were cunning, stronger than others.”
Zoltan let go of Colton’s throat. “Now was that so hard? Telling the truth, I mean?”
Wordlessly, Colton shook his head.
“I’m glad I was able to teach you something. Sadly, however, this lesson comes too late for you.”
Zoltan pulled his dagger from the sheath at his hip and plunged it into the demon. “Never lie to your master, because he’ll always find out.”
Colton gurgled helplessly, and Zoltan twisted the knife in his gut until green blood bubbled up from Colton’s mouth and spilled over his lips. Then he pulled his dagger out and kicked the demon backward, so he fell onto the hard stone ground.
Zoltan tore his gaze from the dying demon and addressed Yannick, “Put together my best warriors and send them out to find the psychic. Have them kill every Stealth Guardian they encounter, and everybody in their way. I want that psychic. Alive.”
“Yes, oh Great One!” Yannick answered. Then he bowed and charged toward the door.
“And have the garbage taken out,” Zoltan ordered, motioning to the floor. “It stinks of cowardice in here.”
9
Logan tossed his stained shirt into a bag in the trunk of the car, pulled out a fresh one and slipped it on. He did the same with his pants, which also sported green bloodstains. It was standard to keep a change of clothes in the car for incidents like this.
He was zipping up when his cell phone rang. He retrieved it and looked at the display. He’d expected the call.
Logan looked toward the restrooms, where Winter was getting changed and stepped farther away from them, so she wouldn’t overhear his conversation. He pressed answer and brought the phone to his ear.
“Man—”
“You fucking asshole!” Manus yelled into his ear, forcing him to hold the phone a foot away for a moment. “What the fuck were you thinking knocking me out like that? Are you out of your bloody mind? You practically ambushed me. Me! Your friend. You’ve got a beating coming, you fucking jerk! Explain yourself! Where the fuck are you? You left me amongst a load of dead demons!”
“Are you done with your rant?”
“No, I’m not done. I’m not done by a long shot! We had a job to do. And you stopped me from doing it. What the fuck got into you?”
“If you stopped ranting, I’d explain.”
Manus mumbled something unintelligible.
“Now listen. We can’t kill her. She’s too valuable to us.”
“The council took a vote. And neither you nor I can question it.”
“They didn’t have enough facts to come to the right conclusion.”
“Oh, and you do? Fuck you, Logan!”
“Would you shut up and listen for a moment? The things she sees, it’s not just about us. She sees the demons, too. Hell, she’s drawn a maze that I believe is the tunnel system of the Underworld.”
“So? You don’t think the council knows that?”
“Don’t you get it? With the information she can provide, we can find the demons’ stronghold. We can destroy them.”
Manus huffed. “You don’t seem to understand that the council already took all that into account when they made their decision. They’re not stupid, Logan. I’m sure they weighed the pros and cons. And the cons weighed heavier. Their decision is law. And you know it.”
“We have to change their mind. If we show them the drawings I found in her place, we can convince them that she’s more valuable to us alive than dead.”
“We? No, buddy, no way. I’m not committing treason. And you’d better not either.”
“I’m not committing treason. This is—”
“Tell me where you are. Where did you take her? We have to finish this job. Before the demons launch another attack. If she falls into their hands—”
“She won’t.” Logan looked toward the restrooms. He was running out of time to convince Manus. Winter could emerge at any moment. “So are you with me or not?”
“Not,” Manus shot back. “I urge you to change your mind, because the council will never change its vote. And if you flee with her, we’ll find you. The council will prosecute you. Don’t do this. Come back now. The council need never know what happened today. I won’t breathe a word of it.”
Logan shook his head. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry. She needs to live. We need her.”
He disconnected the call and stared at the phone.
Going to a safe house was out of the question now. Manus would be able to find them. Just as he would be able to trace Logan’s cell phone and the car just as soon as he spoke to the Baltimore compound. Pearce would run a trace in minutes, and soon after, several of his brethren would come to take him in and kill Winter. He couldn’t let that happen. Now he not only had to hide from the demons, but also from his own people.
“Shit!”
“Something wrong?” Winter’s alarmed voice came from the entrance to the restrooms.
Logan’s gaze shot to her, as she walked toward him quickly, her eyes darting around as if looking for danger. She’d changed her gypsy outfit for jeans and an oversized sweatshirt and removed the dozens of bangles from her wrists.
Knowing she wouldn’t believe if he told her that nothing was wrong, he decided to dish up a lie instead. “The safe house I was planning to take you to isn’t available. We’ll have to go somewhere else. And we’ll have to cover our tracks.” He motioned to the car. “Get in. We need to leave.”
He took her bag and tossed it on the backseat, then slid into the driver’s seat, waited until Winter was seated, and drove off.
/> “Where to?” she asked.
“I’m working on that.” He tapped on the navigation system in the car and expanded the map so he could get a better overview of the area. “We have to ditch the car.” And he’d already figured out where.
“But without the car—”
He tossed her a comforting look. “We’ll be fine. There’s other transportation. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
She met his look and held it for a few seconds. She nodded. “I trust you.”
He swallowed hard and looked back to the street in front of him. She trusted the man who’d saved her life back there in her apartment. But would she trust the man who was supposed to kill her? What would she do if she found out? Would she still trust him then?
Logan pushed away the thoughts. It wasn’t important right now. The only thing that mattered was getting Winter to a safe place, hiding her from the demons and the Stealth Guardians, and then figuring out how to convince the council to let her live under the protection of their people.
The Philadelphia bus station looked depressing, like an old mental hospital with fluorescent lighting. For a large city like Philadelphia, it was rather small. Located only a block from the Convention Center and a few short blocks from City Hall, it was smack-bang in the heart of the city.
Logan parked the car at a metered parking spot on the same block and turned to Winter. “Take your bag. We’re leaving the car here.”
While Winter retrieved her bag from the backseat, Logan set an alarm that would disable the car until a Stealth Guardian entered a code. It would prevent thieves from absconding with the vehicle. Then he looked around to make sure he hadn’t left anything that could identify him or Winter and got out of the car.
From the trunk, he pulled the bag with his soiled clothing. He quickly navigated to an app on his cell phone, typed in a short command, then memorized the three results the app offered him. Then he locked the cell phone, dropped it in the bag with the dirty clothes—leaving it switched on—and zipped it back up. From the bag with the daggers he’d taken off the dead demons, he took two blades, slipped one into the sheath in his boot, the other into the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he locked the doors with his key remote and put several coins into the meter to mitigate the risk of the car being towed within the next two hours. He needed to give his colleagues enough time to follow the trail he was laying out for them.